Late Gifts
by Penmanboat
Summary: John throws a Christmas Party. Post-Reichenbach Drabble, blatantly unoriginal, Johnlock fluff. NO ANGST I SWEAR. Written by Frozen Nightmare.


Title: Late Gifts  
Rating: K+ I guess? Not good at this.  
Status: Complete  
Summary: John throws a Christmas Party. Post-Reichenbach Drabble, blatantly unoriginal, Johnlock fluff. NO ANGST I SWEAR. Written by Frozen Nightmare.

AN: This is actually a gift for a friend, but it's also for all my readers who put up with my hiatuses. I'll be posting another Christmasy-type thing either later today or tomorrow. Love you guys and Merry Christmas/ whatever you celebrate.

The first Christmas after Sherlock returns, John tries to throw another party.  
Sherlock is adamant about not having one. "I don't like people,"he says, "and last time I severely offended Molly."  
"Since when have you cared about her?"  
"John. She's very important."  
"Thank the Lord, Sherlock, you have a heart after all."  
"Awful, isn't it."

Lestrade is the last to arrive, and John thoroughly greets all the guests while Sherlock sulks with his violin. Ms. Hudson pulls him back out rather violently, calling him a "stupid five year old" and making him play a few tunes for the guests before he's feeling personable enough to try deducing a few things about Lestrade. Dead accurate, as usual, and this is all rather boring. Molly shows up late in a light gray dress and white sweater, giving out gifts like a regular Santa. When Sherlock sees her, he stops for a second before shaking his head a fraction of an inch and smiling. "Marcus, from Pathology, right?"  
Molly grins and says something to Sherlock about how she can't believe he noticed, but John just adopts the standard puzzled look.  
Sherlock rolls his eyes at John. "Softer lipstick and a more modest dress, she's not trying to put herself out there this year, which means she either has a significant other or has her eye on someone who's not here. The sweater is a size too big, meaning it was a gift from someone who didn't know her too well at the time. It's expensive, though, obviously he cared about her. Molly doesn't get out much, which means she met him at work, and the only new employee in the science wing in the past month is Marcus Browning. Honestly, John, you should have figured it out, it wasn't a hard-"  
It's not lost on John how he drops his voice at first, then goes back to full volume after John suppresses a smirk. It's almost...cute.  
"Ok, Sherlock, I get it." sighs John.  
The drinks start to run dry and Mrs. Hudson kicks Lestrade to the curb before politely showing Molly out. She then leaves herself, saying something about "giving you two some time alone."  
"What do you mean, 'time alone?'" says John indignantly, but inside he's grateful.  
"Gone for three years and he only shows up last month? You boys have work to do."  
John bids her good night and shuts the door behind her. Sherlock is perched on his chair, clearly deep in thought. "Lestrade is sleeping with my brother." he says as John turns up the fire."  
"Wh-when-what?" John sputters.  
"Oh, come on, it was- never mind." For the most part, Sherlock is the same as he was three years ago. But every once in a while there is something, something different, something human that makes John wonder exactly what had happened to Sherlock in those years. His friend never talked about it.  
"Actualky, Sherlock, I've got a Christmas present for you." He's a little nervous about this, but has spent enough time thinking about that he's sure it'll go over well. Sure, it may be three years late, and he may wish he had done at the last Christmas party, but it's never too late...  
"John, what could you possibly have for me?"  
"Come here."  
Suddenly this is seeming like a bad idea, but he can't stop now.  
"John?"  
"I was thinking," he says, "when you were gone, about some of the things Irene said about me."  
"Which on-oh."  
He had this all planned out, everything he was going to say, and then his damn emotions had to get in the way and make him rush into things-  
But it doesn't matter, cause he's kissing Sherlock and no one's trying to push him away or deduce him to death. For the first time in a month, Sherlock is silent.  
They break apart, and John backs off quickly, embarrassed. Sherlock raises an eyebrow.  
"That was..enlightening." he says.  
"Sorry." mutters John.  
Sherlock still doesn't seem to notice him, only looking up and smiling softly to himself. "Of course." he says. "Of course Ms. Hudson left mistletoe."  
"She did?"  
"Yes, and now I have an excuse."  
Then things start to fade, and he can't breathe again. Sherlock wasn't upset, he couldn't have been, because then he wouldn't be kissing him again...  
"Merry Christmas, Sherlock." he whispers in between breaths.  
"Merry Christmas, John."


End file.
